


Hunters, and Mutants, and LARPers....Oh my!

by Mari_Knickerbocker



Series: Scattered Facets Gathered into a Lifetime [3]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Supernatural, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), X-Men (Movieverse)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Attempt at Humor, Canon Compliant, Canon Divergence - Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Canon-Typical Violence, Family Fluff, Hunters & Hunting, Implied/Referenced Character Death, LARPing, Multi, Not Beta Read, Not Britpicked, Post-Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Supernatural Elements, Work In Progress, supernatural season 8
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-20
Updated: 2015-11-15
Packaged: 2018-04-21 07:10:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4819916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mari_Knickerbocker/pseuds/Mari_Knickerbocker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It all started with a simple exchange of texts just a conversation really....Of course she was texting Darcy, so she really should have known better than to think it would <strong>stay</strong> nothing more than a simple conversation. That girl could complicate things faster than an unexpected plot twist in a whodunit crime show with even farther reaching effects than just revealing the criminal master minds chosen patsy.<br/>Even Avery, however, couldn't see this particular plot twist coming. After all who would expect to see two of the foremost Hunters in the northern hemisphere dressed up in tights pretending to be great warriors of the realm and favored handmaidens to the Queen.  What's more who would expect them to be in the middle of a fecken' hunt of all things!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Update 10.20.15*  
> It was brought to my attention that the fake text messages I originally had inserted in this chapter were no longer showing and I wasn't fully happy with this chapter as written to begin with PLUS I had totally lost momentum on this fic the last few weeks. SO in an effort to jump start the muses I've rewritten this chapter. There's no major changes just more filler/setting of the scene. Hopefully its enough to give me the kick in the pants I need to get going on this one.

Darcy was bored…terribly, utterly, and _ruthlessly_ **_Bored!_** And a bored Darcy was a dangerous beast, a very dangerous beast indeed.

Many would automatically assume that Stark with time on his hands and mischief born of boredom would be the one to look out for, and they wouldn’t be wrong in that assumption. Nor would they be amiss in assuming that an ex-carnie turned government operative and all around smartass could raise more hell than one measly intern when the mood strikes (and it strikes often enough that there is an officially unofficial list detailing what said operative can and cannot do). It wouldn’t be incorrect of these random observers to assume that a pair of Brooklyn boys turned super soldiers could cause all manner of ruckus in a feat of ennui inspired pique unlike anything currently experienced by the 21st century. 

Safe to say that if one were suddenly to find themselves face to face with the calm yet oddly manic combination of a bored Bruce & Jane in the throes of a severe (productive) Science (!) withdrawal it would be wise to back away slowly before turning tail and running for the hills. The same goes for if you were to find yourself suddenly face to face with a bored visiting prince of Asgard – apparently the golden haired wonder with a tendency to bring the noise has just as much of an instinct for causing mischief as his dark haired sibling the self-proclaimed Trickster God. None of that, however, was as horrifying of a prospect as a (heaven forbid!) bored former Red Room operative and master assassin. Please feel free to assume away to your little hearts content that a bored Natasha Romanov was extremely bad for your health. 

Yes it must be conceded that all of these assumptions made by any random passerby are, essentially, correct. There still remains a slight flaw in the logic thereby proving the old adage that ‘assumptions make an ass out of you and me’ has more than just a mere kernel of truth to it. That error being the supposition that Darcy when bored posed no bigger threat than a hummingbird….

Have you ever encountered a territorial hummingbird before? Those itty bitty birdies could throw down like a gangster straight out of Compton.

Darcy was no push over. In case we forget she did taze a god just for freaking her out.

To make a long story short, it’s safe to say that everyone currently living at Avengers Tower could be a menace. Even Pepper, _especially_ Pepper; how else do you think she manages to both date Tony Stark and be a badass CEO of a fortune 500 company? Normally Darcy would seek to relieve her boredom by instigating a prank war then sitting back and watching the sparks fly until Pepper would (finally) wade in and put her foot down. But in the wake of HYDRAgate and SHIELD going the way of the dodo, plus with the rehabilitation of the Winter Solider aka James “Bucky” Barnes making halting but steady progress, now was neither the time nor the place for a prank war. (No matter how amusing it might be or how much the Tower and its residents could currently use a healthy dose of levity).

In case the point hasn’t already been (thoroughly) made – Darcy’s bored, crippled with it in fact. And Darcy with time on her hands and nothing to entertain/occupy herself with is a person to be wary of; especially, when she is trying to look like she’s minding her own business.

Darcy may be the Supreme Scientist Wrangler (and honestly she should get a medal or some sort of award because every day was like herding cats here people) but there was only so much to do in a day that required her full attention. As the most – re only – successful cat shepardess on SI’s payroll her daily duties have long sense become old hat to the former poli-sci student/perpetual intern. Honestly after nearly three years of this shit it should have been. Three months out from moving to the Tower and officially being hired by Pepper as the official handler for the Scientists Three – otherwise known as Jane, Bruce, and Tony or the Terrifying Trio depending on one’s perspective– and Darcy was already looking to branch out.

After SHIELD imploded and Maria Hill came to work for Stark Industries she’d taken one look at the intern then immediately recruited the girl as additional support staff for the Avengers – basically as a glorified team gopher; at least that was the cover story. (Darcy may have also been recruited to do a little spying of her own on the side, but if she told you that she’d have to kill you).

The fact that she’d been ‘volunteered’ for the role as the teams go-between’s go-between never really bothered Darcy. Just like it never bothered her to watch out for Jane and the Science Bros®. Her entire (lousy six college credits) internship had consisted more of her looking out for the diminutive – but scary, let’s not forget scary – astrophysicist than of her doing any actual science. It was pretty much second nature to Darcy for her to make sure Jane ate during the course of a day (at least one meal more substantial than some poptarts - two actual meals if she could swing it) and slept on a somewhat regular basis. In a bed for at least six hours if not a full eight and no two hour catnaps drooling on top of wrinkled, barely legible notes or snuggled up to lab equipment did **NOT** count. No matter how hard a certain frazzled haired, glassy eyed five foot nuthin’ duct tape wielding maniac astrophysicists insists otherwise. Tucking an equally brilliant but crazed Tony Stark and Bruce _‘poster-boy –for-Zen/Mr. Anger Management Issues’_ Banner under her (metaphorical) wings barely stretched her abilities to cope. Sure the chances of her being exposed to either a random explosion or rouge Hulk outing had increased exponentially but Darcy handled those occurrences with her usual aplomb laden with sass and pop culture references.

Although, honestly, she has yet to meet the Hulk in person – which is beyond impressive because explosions are very nearly a daily occurrence what with Tony and Jane in residence at Stark Industries R&D labs in the Tower or candyland as Stark likes to call it. Tony is _totally_ the bad influence here in this scenario; never mind Jane egging him on cackling like some deranged cheerleader.

In the months following the Battle of New York, and her and Jane’s subsequent move to the city, as the rest of the team finally gives up the ghost and caves to Tony’s whining demands to _‘move in already **damn it!** … stubborn bastards’_ there really wasn’t any effort on her part to include one defrosted legend, a god, and two uber twitchy spyssassins into the wheelhouse of those she tends to. Because that’s what Darcy does; she collects people and cares for them (and just like some sweet limited addition Pokémon cards she’s gotta catch ‘em all!). 

When Sam comes aboard Darcy not only acquires another dude with a bird fixation and a penchant for heights to watch out for, she gain’s an ally. They proceed to tag-team like nobody’s business when it comes to managing the crazy that is daily life at the Tower – leaving Pepper free to run SI and Hill free to micro manage Avenger missions whilst holding shady clandestine meetings with a defunct secret government agency (that was no longer supposed to exist let alone was legal to interact with or belong to) and the two ‘dead’ men running it.

Lewis and Wilson are the dynamic duo of Avengers Tower (he’s the Robin to her Batman) and its inhabitant’s domestic issues barely stand a chance. Their master over all things inter personal has been tactfully acknowledged by everyone involved, without anyone ever having to say a word about it. Darcy is their benevolent overlord and they accept her rule without a single complaint (she’s overheard Barton refer to herself and Sam as Mama & Papa Bear, respectfully; she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t flattered). Good thing too for when Steve finally manages to track down Barnes then bring him in they had needed her velvet gloved fist firmly on the reigns to keep the rest of the team from flying apart. They would have too...If Darcy hadn’t calmly accepted Barnes as yet another one of her erstwhile charges without so much as an outward batting of her eyes.

Her tendency to do that with whoever waltzes in through the Tower’s front door and up to the pent house has lead to them hosting a number of interesting guest over the last three years. Like a Canadian mutant with a tendency for chewing on bad cigars and an even worse attitude. Her open arm acceptance of Barnes helps heal the team in the wake of Ultron in ways nobody had anticipated. 

After that unmitigated disaster the team should have been done in completely, at the very least there should have been a permanent switch up in the team’s roster. Instead finding Barnes, assisting him in regaining his own sense of self and independence, helped them all get their respective heads out of their asses and remember what it meant to be Avengers; to be _family_.

They’ve expanded instead of disbanded and for that Darcy feels gratitude towards the shiny Tin Man without a heart who wanted to be King. Other than that small blessing Darcy could joyfully throttle Tony for being such a goddamn pigheaded damaged idiotic little boy. 

Now Darcy’s got her eye on one particular person she’d like to add to her little collection of broken people slowly on the mend. Well, _actually_ there are several people she would like to add to her little collection and they are all of them either a part of a defunct government spy organization or mutants. She’s mostly gotten Logan in her pocket, he’ll just need a little more additional coaxing, as for the rest she’ll get them where she wants them eventually.

(She’s waiting on a certain Agent iPod Thief to man up and admit he’s still alive so she can stop pretending that he’s dead; she’d also like her iPod back. And _honestly_ it can’t be that difficult! After all, Fury’s already made his messiah-like return from the dead complete with Hellicarrier in tow to help save the people of Sokovia).

But the one she currently has her eye one is a certain tawny haired ageless mutant who seems hell bent on spending all her time as friendless hermit; which as everyone knows is _absolutely_ **not** the case. Darcy can’t figure it. Not for the life of her and she’s looked at it from every possible angle she can think of.

With a frustrated sigh Darcy suddenly throws herself down onto one of the many comfortable couches in the towers media room and crosses her arms huffily over her chest. The buzzing of her phone diverted her attention from her current brooding as she flicks it open to read an incoming email. A wide smile splits her lips as she reads the email, it’s the perfect opportunity. All Darcy needs to do is bait the hook, humming wickedly to herself she moves through the windows on her phone to text a certain someone. 

She reviews the conversation with a pleased secretive little smile. This was exactly what the doctor ordered – get Avery out of her little bat cave in the mountains and would provide Darcy with a chance to try and ferret out what exactly was the woman’s deal with all of this self-sacrificing martyrdom bullshit. Darcy upgraded her wicked humming to some light evil cackling, dropping her phone and pulling a good ol’ Montgomery Burns tapping her fingers together and muttering: “Excellent,” evilly under her breath. 

“Good grief, you’re doing the Burns thing again that can’t be good for anyone.” 

Darcy absolutely did not squeal or jump at the sudden unexpected appearance of Clint’s head hovering over the edge of the couch. 

“Oh my god you need to wear a bell!” 

“Never mind that Darcy,” he dismisses her concern with a negligent wave of his hand, “What are you planning?” 

“Shenanigans Clint, shenanigans! Want in?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This will obviously mention _Age of Ultron_ because I kind of can't get around it but I will be blatantly ignoring those things from the movie that I don't feel need to be mentioned in this fic. Nothing against the movie as a whole I just don't care for Banner running away and Pietro dying among things.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The difficult part - the truly _hard_ part that no one ever talks about - of making a plan and then setting it into motion is waiting for everything to just fall into place the way you know it will - the way it should - if people and plans and things would just cooperate already!

Contrary to popular opinion it was Clint who introduced Darcy to the RPG version of Moondoor not the other way around. She surmises that it had started as a way to occupy himself while stuck on babysitting duty in Puente Antiguo; at least that’s when Darcy assumes the archer’s role playing obsession started. If she takes a moment to think it about the role playing probably started long before he ever found internet based role playing games – he is a spy after all – but Darcy tries not to think about such things too much. It wigs her out; she doesn’t need to know those kinds of details about Barton’s personal life.

_Anyways…._

It’s defiantly in New Mexico that he drags her down the proverbial rabbit hole. Luckily for her she’s more of a Mad Hatter type than an Alice and Clint’s far better suited to the role of the Cheshire Cat than the White Rabbit….well, on a good day. Any other day he was pretty much tied neck’n’neck for the role of either Tweedledee or Tweedledum with Nat making a better Cherise Cat than anyone else Darcy knows.

Just one innocuous looking email later and Darcy was hooked. How as she to know that by opening it she’d be taking the red pill and waking up in the Matrix?! (And maybe she should dial it back a notch or two with the pop culture references in her metaphors…. _Ah nope, I really don’t_ ).

As with all things in this brave new world Darcy suddenly found herself a part of the e-invite was just the very tip of the iceberg.

At first she’d assumed that his reaching out to her was a way to alleviate the boredom of watching paint dry that had become Puento Antiguo sans aliens. It didn’t occur to her to consider their snarking back and forth in Moondoor as an overture and prelude to actual friendship until months after the fact when they were already firm friends and Darcy couldn’t possibly imagine a life without her bro Hawkass the Hotguy.

(Now that you mention it she can’t imagine her life without a single one of the whole host of interesting wackadoos she now lives with in it and never **_wants_** too. Darcy has been assured on a number of occasions by all of her favorite besties that she won’t ever have to.)

So she drank the Kool-Aid; totally morphing into a super fan of the Kingdom of Moondoor. Escaping into a new reality really helped her to cope when her actual fantastical reality became way too much sci-fi for her to hack. Darcy’s not sure what about Moodoor attracted Clint but she’s realized that there are some things about her friends that she’s just not going to know. They play the game and keep it between themselves, at first, for the most part. Soon enough some of their mutual avenging hero acquaintances and support staff catch on to what they are doing and are drawn in.

It amuses her to no end that not only one highly trained spy and excellent marksman spends his free time nose deep in internet forums about a Michigan based RPG, but also a super frightening Russian assassin and a genius, billionaire, ex-playboy, philanthropist put in some serious ‘me’ time on the games forums. When Jane jumps on board the Moondoor bandwagon Darcy begins to wonder if her little side project has become a tad obsessive. Jane _noticed_ and actually **paid attention** to what she was doing enough to want to be a part of it. If something could drag her attention away from Science (!) long enough for Jane to actually get involved – to make actual contributions – it had to be something significant. That or Jane wasn’t feeling well. After demanding Bruce check her out for a possible infection or body swap Darcy has to conclude that the god-loving astrophysicists is actually interested in become a full fledged citizen of Moondoor.

For Darcy, her love of the game is simple. Barton introduced her, she was able to escape the surrealistic quality of her own crazy life, and through the game she was able to meet others her own age. Make some actual friends who weren’t looking to weasel up to her just because she knew the Avengers. Sometimes anonymity was exactly what it was cracked up to be. (She willing to concede that the RisingTide hacker contacts she made through the RPG might not have been the wisest move ever, but then the one hacker she was friendliest with ended up being recruited by Coulson to SHIELD so she figures it all evens out in the end).

When she gets the email form one of the games admins about an upcoming Festival to ‘celebrate the triumphant return of the Queen of Moons fresh from an epic Quest into realms unknown’ Darcy sees a golden opportunity.

Darcy has her heart set on not only attending this Festival BUT having the entire assassin’s guild she has created attend the ball with her. Like seriously, _seriously_ has her heart set on it. She knows, however, that it will all come to naught if she cannot get the right people on her side to back up her plan. Getting Clint in her corner barely takes any effort on her part at all. The archer was already an avid fan of the game, the idea of taking their game avatars out for a stroll in the real world appealed to him immensely. For a dude in his mid-forties and with some super scary spy skills he was pretty much still a child, but Darcy doesn’t judge – hell they’re living with Tony Stark and if he wasn’t a four year old trapped in a forty year old’s body then she was a monkey’s uncle. She’s pretty sure she can get Natasha on board with this idea as well and she knows she’ll have to keep it away from Tony. All hell will break loose if Tony gets so much of inkling of them even thinking about attending this Festival. Since he’s involved in the game he probably got the invitation, she’ll just have to play dumb until they can safely get off to Michigan without him knowing. FRIDAY and Pepper both will defiantly help her; Darcy knows without even having to ask that she can count on them to keep Tony diverted. 

No, to really do this Darcy’s going to need to call on the big guns. She needs Avery.

Thankfully, Darcy has some time to maneuver and get her plans into full swing because Avery is proving to be stubborn – well…more so than usual that is. If Darcy didn’t know better she would accuse Avery of dragging her feet on purpose. She pulls up short in her trounce through the rec room as the sudden realization strikes her like one of Thor’s lightning bolts.

_Oh my **GOD!** Sweet bouncy baby Thor she’s totally doing this to me on purpose!_

“Penny for your thoughts Darc?” Steve asks looking up at her from where he had been engaged in trash talking his way through a particularly vicious race on Mario Kart against Sam, Bucky, and Clint. 

She looks down to see that he’s foisted his controller off onto (or more likely had it stolen by) Natasha who is now systematically taking down each of her opponents with gleeful abandon – the very tip of her tongue sticking out between her lips and the small crinkling around her eyes are the only indication of just how much she’s enjoying herself. Steve flashes her a bit of his apple pie smile in the hopes of encouraging Darcy to stop staring at him and actually answer the question.

“I just realized that the reason someone’s been persistently ducking my calls is because she’s a bit of an asshole.”

“Is this about the Michigan trip?” He asks brow furrowing a little bit in puzzlement, “Why would Avery purposefully duck your phone calls, you’re her favorite.”

Darcy’s not ashamed to admit she preens a little bit at that casually tossed out observation. But then her mind catches up to what he’s said and her eyes narrow dangerously at Clint. She’s not the least bit fooled by his sudden laser like focus concentration on the television screen. Heads were about to start rolling here in a minute.

“The Michigan trip that I know absolutely nothing about,” Steve tries to back track catching a glimpse at the mutinous expression on Darcy’s face.

“Stevie, you’re a shit liar.” Barnes informs him lobbing some popcorn in Captain America’s direction to bounce harmlessly off of his perfectly chiseled chest. Steve scowls charmingly at the offending snack before looking back up at Darcy though the eyelashes surround his guileless big baby-blues; _as if butter wouldn’t melt._

“Doesn’t matter,” he dismisses all of that with a wave of his hand, “What’s important here is why Avery would be ducking your phone calls Darcy?”

“I have no idea!” Darcy explodes tossing her hands up in the air dramatically then collapsing back down onto a nearby couch flinging one arm up over her eyes. “The woman has a creepy sixth sense when it comes to people trying to pin her down, she’s worse than freakin’ Xavier.”

“Darcy, have you actually _called_ Avery?” Natasha asks pointedly piercing the intern with an inescapable look.

“Ah, well, no. I’ve mostly emailed and texted her.”

“младшая сестра,” the red head sighs infusing a world of exasperation into those two words. “Actually _**call**_ her.” It’s delivered as an order and one that’s not meant to be contradicted; sometimes though, Darcy just cannot help herself.

“You think that would work?” Darcy asks peeking out from underneath her arm to watch the Russian. Natasha merely looks at her in reply, one perfectly formed eyebrow elegantly arched in disdain.

“All right! All right you’ve made your point,” Darcy concedes. “I’ll try actually calling her…but what do I say?”

“You just need to get her to come to the Tower right?” Bucky muses aloud still fiddling with his controller even though everyone has long since lost any interest in the game. Darcy hums her agreement and the recovering HYDRA prisoner ducks his head away from them before mumbling into his chest; “Tell her I remember shooting her that one time and want to apologize, in person.”

Everyone in the room goes unnaturally still at the mumbled confession staring warily at the man who squirms under the increased scrutiny. 

“Buck you remember that?” Steve asks at the same time Clint exclaims – “You shot Avery!”

“I only remember the one time!” Bucky yells back defensively. Taking a moment to visible settle his nerves then continues with a shrug; “What’s it matter anyways, it’ll get her to the Tower.”

Darcy’s not all that comfortable with the idea of using one of Bucky’s rare recollections as bait to get Avery to talk to her and she can tell by the way the others are looking at her but carefully avoiding Barnes eye that they’re not comfortable with it either. That plus the fact that he’s trying so hard to act so very nonchalant about the whole thing tells Darcy that this is something they should really discuss but she knows better. Bucky’s steal blue eyes are hard and defensive his jaw set mulishly, pushing him now isn’t going to get her anywhere. So she takes the only option left available to her; “Okay, Barnes I’ll give Avery a ring and let her know that you want to talk.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> младшая сестра - little sister in Russian
> 
> Thanks for reading! Just an FYI the first chapter of this story has been rewritten so you might want to go back and read it again. Not necessary but it wouldn't hurt :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's starting to look like Michigan _might_ actually be a possibility. Darcy tries to remain cautiously optimistic just in case; after all the one thing she knows about Avery with any certain is the woman's absolutely unpredictable.

She was aware – long before she even set a foot into the Tower’s lobby – that she had been lured there under circumstances that were somewhat more than just a little suspect; actually, they were downright hinky. Still knowing this Avery finds herself willfully walking into Avengers formerly Stark Tower and hitching a ride up to the penthouse like the proverbial lamb to slaughter. It’s not like she can honestly stake any claim at being disappointed in the children, after all. Once the truth comes out (and it will in very short order, because the truth always comes out) they’ll discover that she’s been operating under pretenses that are equally false.

Darcy had no way of knowing that for the last five weeks; ever since that very first text conversation – before it even – that Avery has not been ensconced up in her Adirondack cabin hidden away from the world like the girl so firmly believes. Instead she’s been roaming sporadically up and down the Eastern seaboard doing a far imitation of a rootless vagabond. The only reason she hasn’t been leaving visible tracks up and down the entire width and breadth of the continental United States is that every single person she currently _cares_ for ( she won’t, can’t, not even to herself name the emotion currently holding her ability to be rational hostage and slowly driving her batty as anything more than simple caring) all reside in one handy square mile radius. 

It’s a round trip of roughly three hundred and sixty-five miles; but who’s counting? Avery’s never really been the best at math so it’s defiantly not her. (That’s not exactly true either, but she never cared to measure or limit her intelligence based off of what mathematical problems she can or cannot solve; so there’s that).

It takes Avery only four days to pace from Westchester County to NYC down to Bethesda before swinging back up again to Westchester County. She does this so often – has been doing this since the shit hit the fan with the fall of SHIELD and the return aka revelation of HYDRA only increasing her prowling’s frequency in the wake of Sokova and Ultron – that she is amazed she has not worn a permanent path into the earth’s very crust. A new oddly triangular shaped Grand Canyon that happily stretches through Pennsylvania to straddle the Mason-Dixon line before heading back up north again. 

She knows that it is beyond borderline obsessive, has in fact charged happily over the cliff edge into outright insanity. Her only excuse is that its instinct and not even Avery is immune when instinct decides to take over the puppet strings. With Natasha’s unceremonious dump of SHIELD’s intelligence onto the world wide web (or to quote Kitty the ‘WikiLeak to end all WikiLeaks’) and her subsequent outing as still being **alive** to certain concerned parties (i.e. Tony) Avery’s felt comfortable enough to cave to – out right indulge in fact – that undeniable instinct to protect the young all mothers possess. She knows that, strictly speaking, none of them _need_ her to watch out for them; they are neither damsels in distress or shrinking violets, but she knows herself well enough to realize that she won’t rest easy at night if she does not keep an eye on them _personally_. 

That’s how she came to be stalking an old retrofitted SSR base that’s now the new headquarters for the slowly rebuilding SHIELD when Darcy first broaches the topic of LARPing. Avery’s circled back around through her new stretch of territory five times over by the time the seventh email requesting her presence at the Tower has arrived and gone unanswered. By the time the girl finally man’s up and actually calls Avery the mutant is already back in New York City, thirty-five days have passed and she’s made a grand total of eight trips from Institute to Playground to Tower and back again with every single inhabitant blissfully unaware of her incessant unnecessary _**pacing**_.

If they ever find out she would actively hate herself for how needy she’s become in her old age. (Right now she’s regulated her particular brand of self-loathing to a mild annoyance). But she feels safe in the knowledge that they will not. Xavier knows better than to try and track her, Coulson no longer has the manpower to devote the time and effort needed to keep track of her (that and she’s finally gotten it through his thick skull that she’ll show when she’s needed) and Vision aka JARVIS had always had her back she doubts he’ll let FRIDAY go poking around for traces of her whereabouts no matter what Tony demands. 

She doesn’t tell Darcy that she’s already in the city. Instead she hears her out and tells her she’ll be by the Tower shortly. Avery doesn’t bother to provide a more definitive answer than that. Honestly, it’s probably going to take her at least a day to adjust to the fact that Barnes wants to talk to her about something he did to her when he was the Winter Solider.

Avery’s fairly certain that neither one of them really wants to go down that road and in an effort to distract herself she starts seriously considering the possibilities of a trip to Michigan for a little escapism.

**_****~~~~~****_ **

She hangs up and feels…well _dirty_ is the only way to describe how Darcy’s feeling right now. Putting a name on the feeling does nothing to lessen the sick churning in her stomach or the sensation of bile crawling slowly up the back of her throat. She frowns fiercely at the device in her hand trying to reconcile the knowledge that she was finally going to get what she wanted with the way she had to go about getting it. _This is_ **exactly** _the same kind of underhand bullshit Fury pulls that makes everyone hate him._ Darcy’s just not comfortable with what she has done, not in the least, the further comparison to Fury does nothing to ease her conscious. 

“What did she say?” Sam asks finding Darcy exactly where he knew she’d be; tucked away in a little nook of the penthouse’s outdoor patio that no one else knew existed. It’s Darcy’s little hideaway the place she always retreats to when she needs to gain some perspective.

“She said she’ll be by soon, which in Avery speak can mean anywhere from twenty minutes to three days from now.”

He nods empathetically at her assessment of the conversation. Even though he’s only met the mutant twice so far and briefly both times, he knows her well enough to understand that Avery does things in her own time and not a moment before she’s ready to. It doesn’t take Sam long to get the measure of a person, that’s his superpower; he reads people and more importantly he understands them. It would have worried Darcy but then she had the exact same superpower, that’s what made them such a good team.

“You don’t like this,” it’s a statement more than a question and she’s grateful that he’s taken the option to either admit or deny that fact so neatly out of her hands.

“Can you blame me?”

“No not really. I don’t like it either."

“It’s shady Sam, _über_ shady and it just feels wrong, like morally,” she elaborates because she just cannot help herself. He hums noncommittedly at that and looks considerably out across the New York City skyline.

“I can understand that, on paper it reads as underhanded and more than somewhat deplorable. But I’m not quite sold on it being wrong,” he finally ventures after a few moments of thoughtful silence. Darcy looks at him sharply waiting a little impatiently to see where he’s going with this. “At the very least it _will_ get him talking about what happened, what he went through back then, and it will get _her_ to talk as well. Talking is something they both need to do and if a little subterfuge accomplishes at least that much, then I can’t honestly claim that I’m against it.”

“Still feel dirty,” Darcy concedes not bothering to hide her skeeved out shudder.

“That’s because you’re a good friend Darcy,” he reassures her giving her a one armed hug.

“Yeah, well, you just remember that Wilson.” 

Avery arrives at the Tower the following afternoon and Darcy can't shake the feeling that the shits about to hit the fan.

**_****~~~~~****_ **

To think that everything had all started with just a simple text exchange. But given that the texts in question were between her and one Darcy Lewis….. Well, Avery really should have known that it was never going to stay a simple anything. In fact – as things has a habit of doing around Darcy – everything had very quickly developed into an undertaking of _**EPIC**_ proportions, there’s no denying that. It didn’t help matters that Darcy got the bit in between her teeth at the same time Avery was trying to work her way through a (admittedly rare) panic attack.

Avery appreciated the girl’s enthusiasm; it was both unrepentantly insolent as well as delightfully refreshing, that is until it became utterly exhausting and unmeasurably irritating. But perhaps the most aggravating thing about this whole situation, and Darcy in particular, was how often Avery did not, could not, say no to the girl. No matter how much she might want to. Which she realized, much to her aggravation (seriously it was like adding salt to an open wound rubbing it in then pouring lemon juice on top) Avery did **not** _want_ to say no to Darcy this time around. While admittedly that didn’t stop her from dragging her heels. _One does have one’s reputation to maintain after all._ Avery had a reputation as a killjoy, deserved or not, and she was determined to live up to it. It’s the simple joys in life, you see.

Therefore (once she managed to reign in her own anxiety over the current state of the union) she entrenched herself behind a brick wall of stubborn pride, deliberately dug her heels in and dragged her feet. All for the entertainment it gave her to watch Darcy try and convince a (metaphorically) kicking and screaming Avery to go along with her plans. Was it childish of the nearly two thousand year old mutant? Extremely. Did she care that she came across as being ridiculously immature? Not in the least.

She was enjoying herself too much to care. Avery had learned long ago to take her pleasure where she found them.

She waltzes into the Tower’s lobby the following afternoon mingling with the rest of the Stark Industries employees already mewling about as if she had always belonged. She’s not in the least bit concerned about security or any surveillance. Breaking into Tony’s little shrine to himself without his consent is one of her favorite games to play right now. She isn’t that much of a jackass as to do this without letting _somebody_ know what it is she’s up to, after all the goal is to bypass Tony and annoy him not render the security of the tower obsolete. Thankfully she and JARVIS have always had a certain understanding between them, it’s mainly rooted in the fact that Tony shouldn’t be allowed to get to big for his britches among other things. So in an effort to burst Stark’s ego JARVIS happily assisted her in her periodic break-ins whilst at the same time turning a blind eye to it. As for the people it’s in instances like this that she has no qualms using her talents at telepathy proactively and encouraging those around her to ‘forget’ noticing her passing.

Avery had heard that during the brouhaha with Ultron J had earned himself an upgrade of some sort which meant the AI was no longer in control of the Tower. That didn’t bother her in the least; the protocol for what she wanted to do should still be written within the Tower’s security code where the boy genius wouldn’t think to go looking for it. One coded text message and she was in the clear.

Slipping through the lobby moving with a purpose as if she belonged, Avery nods once with absentminded familiarity at the security guards she passes as if was a long ingrained habit. Hitching a ride up in an elevator car filled with R & D scientists too engrossed with whatever project they currently have on the boil that they wouldn’t be able to tell the difference between their thumbs or their asses at the moment Avery was able to get as close as she could to the private levels without having direct access. Counter intuitive really, since it took her up and past the private quarters but it worked. From there the next step was to find either an unmanned staircase or an out of the way storage closet with air duct access. 

In less than thirty minutes Avery’s let herself into Darcy’s apartment and is sitting at her kitchen island staring in despair at the amount of paperwork and research strewn across it.

“Seriously, girl how in the hell do you have time for all of this” Avery asks honestly taken aback by the amount of material. She doesn’t turn around to look at the girl who just returned for lord knows where.

“What? It’s called time management in the 21st century Avery. C’mon don’t even try to tell me that you’ve never heard of it before,” Darcy retorts coming up to stand beside the older woman and tossing her hair over her shoulder sassily for good measure. She very pointedly decides not to mention Avery’s sudden appearance in her home or the reasons that brought the mutant to be there.

“Besides what the hell else do you think I do all day? Just sit around in the lab waiting of one of the Scientists Three to attempt to blow something up so I can pounce on them? Twiddle my thumbs waiting for the opportune moment to shove a pop tart down Jane’s throat or to tell the big cranky babies with the PhD’s to go the fuck to sleep? That’s some quality gaming time I’d be wasting dude.”

Avery favors the girl with one patented raised eyebrow and a classic expression that screams ‘I am-judging-your-life-choices-so-hard-right-now-it-isn’t-even-funny’ and Darcy ducks her head a moment to hide a blush.

“Not that I’m saying I spend all my time screwing around,” she immediately tries to backtrack waving her arms about, “but I have been known to delve occasionally into a well deserving RPG.” She steals a glance at Avery through the curtain of her dark hair. Upon seeing the older woman’s amused smirk Darcy whirls about to slug the mutant in the arm.

“Such a goddamn troll Avery!”

“So you’ve said before, now tell me something I don’t know ducks,” the tawny haired mutant replies with a chuckle completely unrepentant.

“God and I thought Rogers was bad,” Darcy groans over dramatically grabbing the side of her head and shaking it mournfully, “but you’re like a hundred times worse.”

“More practice luv,” is her cheeky retort. “He’ll get there in time, never fear.”

“Note to self,” Darcy remarks with a stiff little bob of her chin, “never leave Rogers alone with Ave long enough for her to teach him how to be an even _better_ version of the little shit he already is.”

“It’s called talent luv,” Avery explains patiently reaching over and tweaking Darcy’s nose. “You of all people should appreciate that me gel.”

“Point, you have a point,” she admits reluctantly. “And we have gotten _way_ off track here,” the brunette continues reprimanding the older woman with a twinkle in her blue eyes that completely pulls the rug out from underneath her attempt at scolding the woman. “Now let’s get back to business here, shall we?” Darcy concludes rubbing her hands together with ill-concealed glee finally moving to take a seat at her own kitchen counter.

Hiding a pleased smile Avery hunches closer over the counter and waits patiently for Darcy to indoctrinate her on the world of Moondoor and the intricacies of LARPing. The more she learns the more in favor of escapism she becomes; after all how much could a little vacation from reality hurt in the long run?

Before long, and without her permission, two hours have passed as Darcy has filled her head with stories about Moondoor and the four kingdoms that make up the realm. After a couple of heated discussions about the kingdoms various politics and the current Queen of Moons reign, as well as some healthy speculation as to the cause of her most recent mysterious absence, Avery’s not sure if she’s fallen in the love with the game or if she should sue for the loss of those two hours. If she was being honest with herself they’d she’d acknowledge the fact that she’s fallen more than just a little bit in love but she’ll be damned if she lets Darcy know. The girl already has more of a claim on Avery they she was comfortable with.

So she remains outwardly skeptical as Darcy continues to argue her case; besides, that’s the only way Avery will know how much of her own effort she should put into the intern’s current ‘pet’ project. By being a little shit Avery can test Darcy’s commitment to her cause; it’s not done just for kicks and giggles. She won’t agree to anything until she is convinced it’s going to be worth her time and effort and she’ll judge its worth based off the girl’s passion for her little scheme.

“This game is popular in Michigan Darc, how did you hear about it?”

“It’s on the internet Ave and the internet is forever plus, _bonus_ , anyone can access it from anywhere.”

“Don’t sass me child,” Avery quips merely out of habit. She’s too busy reading through the stack of profiles and detailed histories on the characters Darcy has created to put any actual heat behind the rebuke. She’s beyond impressed by the girl’s thoroughness and devotion to every last detail. Reading between the lines she can see the hand of a couple of other people in these files but it is pretty much all Darcy’s work.

“You play as all of these characters, for all of us?” Avery doesn’t bother to hide the awe in her voice. This is a massive undertaking the girl has taken upon herself. She’s created fictional characters for all of the Towers residents as well as various members of SHIELD and the X-men – essentially everyone in the business of saving the world that she has come into contact with and Avery never realized she’d had that as much contact with Xavier’s people as she has. To say its impressed Avery would be an understatement and if she did not already know better she’d be sending Darcy to a shrink to get evaluated for multiple personalities.

“Yeah, well the game’s been around for a while and I started with just the one but then got bored,” she started to explain rubbing at the back of her neck. Avery can tell that Darcy’s being evasive but she’s not about to push the matter, she’ll let the child explain things in her own time. “Then after the stuff with Thor went down, I met Clint, and well Thor’s basically a living breathing character from the game…I guess I just kept adding people as I bumped into them.”

“Huh,” Avery grunts. She can understand the appeal of adding a character for Thor and for Clint (although she suspects that Clint’s role in this story is somewhat larger than Darcy is letting on) the game has an entire medieval flare to it and Thor practically lives in chain mail while Clint uses a damn bow and arrow for Christ’s sake. Really, it’s not too far of a stretch from there to see why she would add the rest of the Avengers to her roster of characters. Or any other hero-type for that matter; they were practically tailored made for such a world.

“Darcy, you’ve basically created a fifth kingdom here, do you realize that?”

“Well, not exactly,” the girl hems and haws, “it’s more like a nomadic tribe. The game was already so well balanced between the Followers of the moon, Elves, Warriors of yesteryear and the Shadow Orcs I didn’t want to mess with that. So I figured a nomadic tribe of assassins that hire out their skills to the highest bidder would be a better fit.”

“Clever,” Avery remarks starting to sort out the character bios into separate distinct piles in front of her.

In one pile there are profiles for characters meant to represent Natasha, Clint, May, Bobbi, Remy, Wade, Coulson, and Bucky in the next she has sorted out the relative character profiles for Logan, Pitor, Thor, Rogers, Wilson, Hunter, and Mack. 

“So these are your thieves, assassins and soldiers,” she surmises taping each pile with a finger and at Darcy’s encouraging nod shifts a hand to hover over a third stack of profiles for Skye, Ororo, Lincoln, Kurt and Wanda; “And these folks are your magic users, correct?”

Avery has a fourth pile in front of her that is composed of nearly all of the scientific types between the three heroic organizations – Bruce, Jane, Simmons, Erick, Hank and Kitty as well as Tony and Fitz – but it’s clear to her that they serve two distinct purposes. She pulls Tony and Fitz’s profiles out and wave them in front of Darcy; “The clan’s blacksmiths and the rest of these folks are your alchemists.”

There are more character profiles then just the ones she’s already sorted into piles, but the twenty-eight she has identified are more than enough to be getting on with for now.

“Totes! You really got a knack for this Ave,” Darcy complements the older woman favoring her with a warm smile.

Avery smiles faintly at the praise but doesn’t bother to inform the girl that the reasons he’s so good at this is because it’s so damn familiar to her. She lived through Middle Ages, she remembers organizing campaigns, assessing a soldier’s talents at a quick glance and knowing their best use (she may have been posing as a knight at the time, but that’s neither here nor there). Avery remembers what it felt like to _live_ back then. Going through all of Darcy’s material on Moondoor has only stirred those memories and she finds herself unconsciously worrying at her bottom lip in an effort to hold her tongue. 

“Uh, Avery,” the girl begins and Avery grunts encouragingly carefully keeping her gazed focused on the papers before her. 

She’s been wondering how long it would take before the girl got her courage up to broach the subject of her last phone call. Honestly she had been expecting to have had this confrontation over and done with by now.

“Look about that phone call I just wanted to say” –

“I’ll talk to him darling as soon as we finish things up here.”

“Avery I didn’t mean to bring you down here under false pretenses and I feel like an absolute jerk wad for using Bucky to manipulate you so if you don’t want to do this I completely understand,” she blurts out tripping over her words in her headlong rush to get them out and apologize. “I suppose I should have gotten the hint weeks ago when you didn’t really respond to that first email.”

The girl is twisting her hands in her lap and has worked herself up so much that she is on the verge of tears. Without thinking Avery reaches out to her and lays a soothing hand along on her shoulder giving it a little squeeze.

“ _Darcy_ ,” she breathes out the young woman’s name infusing it with all of the calm reassurance she can muster (which is considerable, really). “Don’t apologize luv, not when I’m the one who’s been unbearably rude. I should have given you a proper answer weeks ago instead of ignoring you.”

The brunette is blinking rapidly and her breath is beginning to hitch with the onset of a panic attack. Avery can easily read the guilt in the drawn out contours of her face. Instinctively the mutant moves her hand up along child’s trapezius until her hand is wrapped around the back of her neck and she gives it a gentle little shake to both ground Darcy and settle her nerves. Similar to when a mother cat picks up a kitten by the scruff of its neck the gesture instantly calms Darcy. That doesn’t prevent her from continuing to try to apologize, however. 

“But I **used** Bucky to get you here! It’s wrong and I feel _disgusting_ about it.”

“I can see that.” She acknowledges and Darcy frowns something fiercely, “But I’m guessing he _told_ you to tell me that, so one could argue that he’s been using you just as much as you’ve been using him. If you want to make the case that some _one_ is being manipulated here, which I’m inclined to think that no one is.” 

“Wait…what?” The girl stutters brought up short by the idea and trying to assimilate that possibility into whatever little guilt ridden scenario she’s concocted in her head. Avery absolutely does not smile at the dumbfounded expression on Darcy’s face; it’s a close call though.

“Oh, Lewis you’re an absolute treasure you know,” she informs the girl. Her blue eyes flash with a spark of indignation and a chuckle escapes Avery before she can bite it back. She stalls Darcy’s annoyed retort with a hand gesture then runs it through her hair impatiently. “I’ve been meaning to talk to Barnes for a while, I suppose now is as good of a time as any.”

“But” –

“Oh but me no buts, Darcy” she interrupts curtly. She’s thoroughly over this argument; they’re just going to keep on going around in circles after all. “Now whose arms am I twisting?” Avery inquires tapping the piles of paper still spread out in front of them.

It proves an apt distraction and the absolutely best thing to say for Darcy’s face brightens immediately and Avery is inordinately pleased at herself for erasing that guilty pinched expression from the girl’s features. It was the least she could do, especially since she was the reason behind it in the first place. Avery never could stand seeing those she cared about feeling bad for her regard; she’s always been a softie at heart no matter what kind of front she put up.

“You really want to do this?”

“Of course I do! Why wouldn’t I?”

In reply Darcy flings her arms around Avery’s neck and hugs her tight nearly dragging the older woman off of her barstool; she definitely knocks the wind out of her.

“Oh my gawd Avery you’re the freakin’ bomb diggity!” She exclaims into the crook of Avery’s neck before pulling away. “Okay so I was thinking for our first swaray into Moondoor proper we should go with these guys,” she suggests pulling out the appropriate character profiles.

They get down to planning what they want to do and who should join them on this spontaneous fieldtrip to Michigan and although Avery has several questions she keeps them firmly locked behind her teeth content to bask in the warmth of the girl’s enthusiasm for now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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> That's the basic floor plan of the Tower I'm going to try to stick to using. Operative word is _try_ and hopefully we'll be moving this show on the road soon!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This seems like a bit of filler but certain people got chatty and I let them ramble.

They spend the rest of the afternoon enjoying a friendly back and forth discussion about making a trip to Michigan. Trying to nail down all the particulars; what they should do when they get there, how they are going to dress up as their characters, and most importantly who should come with or should be left behind. To claim that it was an animated discussion would have been a bit of an understatement. There was a great deal of raised voices and failing limbs on Darcy’s part and a considerable amount of full body laughter on Avery’s. The girl’s antics were side splitting and her passion for her little side project infectious so much so that Avery’s not only become breathless from laughing so hard but has actual tears in her eyes.

“Stop! Stop Darcy I can’t breathe,” she’s suing for peace pushing a hand into her side to ease a stitch that’s developed unexpectedly. 

“Stop!?!” The girl exclaims incredulously, “I cannot stop now this is the freaking best damn thing I’ve seen today! Perhaps in my life! You can _laugh_ \- who the fuck knew?”

That declaration and question has the opposite effect on Avery than what Darcy might have intended – it sobers her right up. The tawny haired mutant leans casually against the kitchen island props herself up with an elbow and studies the young woman before her with open curiosity. It’s true that she does not laugh much. Oh she had a healthy sense of humor and is often sardonically amused by the children’s antics, giving voice to an ironic chuckle here or there, but she rarely laughed aloud with anything like unrepentant mirth – as she’s just been doing. Avery blinks slowly at the realization that she’s been deliberately holding herself apart from them even when she’s among them. _How remiss of me…_

(She knows why she holds herself back and it’s a bad habit she’s been trying to break for generations now…but you know what they say about bad habits. Besides she got into the habit for a damn good reason, well at least she thought so at the time…).

Thankfully Darcy continued to giggle away oblivious to the minor epiphany the nine hundred year old woman was currently going through. Apparently she was still capable of receiving and making those things. _And at my age too! Would have thought I’d have it all figured out by now._ Its her ability to still be surprised by life, along with her (somewhat crushing – at times) sense of duty, that kept Avery from withdrawing from the world entirely. Why hide away when there was always something new and wonderful left out there to discover? Still Avery couldn’t help but comment;

“Why my dear, one would think you’ve never heard laughter before. What kind of rock have you been living under?” She teases shaking her head in a woebegone manner meant to entice another delightful giggle out of the girl. Her smile widens in triumph as she’s once again rewarded with that musical sound.

“A different rock then the one you’ve been hiding your laughter under, obviously.” a new voice interjects over the sound of an air duct vent being unceremoniously (and deliberately) jangled open. On the heel of his words Barton drops down into the narrow space between the hob and the kitchen island. (The sniper learned the hard way not to sneak up on Avery unless she was expecting him).

“Never thought to hear you laugh like that Ave,” he continues crossing his arms over his chest then leaning nonchalantly against the counter behind him. He’s attempting to look disapproving but Avery’s not buying it.

“Ach! You wound me laddie!” Avery moans theatrically clutching a hand over her heart. Darcy sniggers and Barton snorts his own amusement. 

“What can we do ya for Clint?” Darcy asks once she gets herself under control.

“Nothing much Darc,” he answers with a casual shrug. Avery makes an effort to school her expression into a poker face, but the merriment in her eyes gives her away. She’s instantly suspicious of the man’s sudden interruption and she doesn’t mind letting him know that.

Meanwhile, Darcy’s gone for a studiously innocent expression but Avery’s not buying that one either. It’s almost like the girl was trying too hard to sound normal, nonchalant, and Barton is trying too hard to appear uninvolved in what’s been going on.

“Just wanted to check in and see how project Moondoor been coming along is all,” he finishes.

The little glare Darcy gives Clint would have been more than enough to set Avery off into a fresh peal of laughter if she did not have enough self-control to keep it in check. Aside from entertaining the girls attempt to stare daggers into the sniper’s head is a dead giveaway that the two of them are working in cahoots. It’s all the confirmation Avery needed.

“Ah-ha eureka! The co-conspirator comes forth at last!” She remarks shifting off of the elbow that had been propping her up and leaning back with crossed arms of her own. Their stumped and dazed expressions are truly beautiful to behold. She just wants to bask in the glory of them for a moment.

“How did you…?”

“Please Darcy give me a little credit here love.” Avery teases.

It has been clear to her from the start that the while the girl may be the brains behind this operation – one couldn’t have spent as much time talking to her without recognizing this fact – she was not entirely alone in her scheming. She shouldered a great deal of responsibility for keeping this afloat but it wasn’t an entirely solo act. In fact Avery was willing to bet that Darcy hadn’t even been the original instigator behind playing the game.

All it took was a little reading between the lines of the established gameplay and the identities of Darcy’s compatriots started to make a whole lot of sense.

Avery’s not stupid, no matter what games she plays, and while she might not be a consulting detective she’s no slouch in the intelligence department. That plus a judicial application of common sense never hurt anything. Oh, all right she could have put a little more effort into the whole acting shocked thing or she could have allowed them to shock her in the first place with the whole big reveal but Avery couldn’t resist pulling the metaphorical rug out from underneath their feet.

Did not require having the man mysteriously pop out from the ventilation duct in Darcy’s kitchen for Avery to cotton on to the fact that Barton was involved; although she had to admit it was very slick and rather spy-ish of him. Sure Darcy could have easily picked up all of the technical weapons and fighting jargon Avery spied in these printouts from hanging out with the Avengers and various SHIELD agents. That’s easy for Avery to picture happening. Darcy has a knack for picking things up then turning around and using them in their appropriate context to her own devises; she’s a bit of a magpie like that. But there is a clinical detachment, actually more of a cavalier attitude, about the jargons usage that screams of long familiarity. That and she’s gone ahead a read several of Barton’s missions reports, curious to know what was awful about them that they’d turn Hill into a bitchy valley-girl (plus she’d gotten sick and tired of listening to the young woman’s endless grousing without actual context). His writing was just as full of smart aleck remarks and boundary pushing wisecracks as the man himself. Add in all the clinical (and cynical) detachment in the way most of the clan’s assassinations were described, it could only come about from practical know how. Avery sincerely doubted that Darcy knew the best way to sneak up on some unsuspecting fool down a dark deserted corridor and garrote them. 

If so then they’ve all seriously misjudged the curvy intern and she deserved to have all of the best actresses’ awards for the next ten years handed to her, there wouldn’t even be a need to put the matter up to a vote.

“Okay so you figured that out,” Barton temporizes trying to save face. Avery chuckles. “Bet you don’t know who else is in on this?” He continues pugnaciously, Avery only offers him another wide grin. She loves it when the children test her – its _ever_ so much fun proving them wrong.

“I’m more interested in whose arms you want me to go twisting girly,” she counters returning her attention to Darcy.

“Well that’s gonna depend on who we decide to bring along.”

“Thought that’s what you’ve **been** doing for the last couple of hours,” Clint pipes up obviously incredulous that they don’t have that matter sorted out already.

“Nope hadn’t gotten that far yet,” Darcy admits with a pointed look in Avery’s direction. “Some _body_ ’s been a little too preoccupied with the nitty gritty of the gameplay.”

“What do you expect ducks, it reminds me of good times,” is the only defense she offers for herself. “And you’re getting rusty Hawkass I’ve been here since ten thirty this morning and its now a quarter to five.”

“When you say reminds you…?”

“Lay out your dream team for me Darcy and I’ll tell you why they will or won’t work.” Avery commands speaking right over Clint and ignoring his question entirely. Her memories are not up for discussion right now, not ever if she were to get her way.

“All of them, that’s the dream team, all of them.”

“Can’t have them all girly, narrow it down.”

“To how many,” the question comes out with a bit of a warble. The girl sounds like Avery is forcing her to give up her first born child.

“Probably no more than ten would be best Darcy if that,” Clint suggests, “this is just a trial run.”

“Only **_ten!_** ” her voice goes up by several octaves and she looks utterly betrayed. “C’mon man! Seriously dude, that’s crippling us. We could easily run this beyotch and you two want to go and hobble us needlessly before we even have a chance to get this show on the road.”

“If you truly want this to end in a coup then its best not to tip your hand before you’re ready,” Avery advises. She doesn’t bother to add that she’s speaking form experience here, especially not with Clint nodding along in agreement. (Nor does she mention the shared memory of a certain recent overthrow of a particular government agency by a secret organization long thought demolished).

SHIELD’s always been in the business of toppling governments when it suited their needs (whether they’d admit it or not) and Clint’s had a hand in that practice – whether he knew it at the time or not. 

“Huh, so you’re thinking of swiping a play out of the old HYDRA playbook?”

“It’s not really a play specific to anyone’s playbook Darcy,” she explains, “backstabbing and rebellion has always been a part of human history, just ask Caesar. Besides, all we’re really saying here is let’s leave the possibility for a coup open,” she clarifies. “Whoever we take on this maiden voyage the other LARPers are going to be all over them like white on rice since clan members have never participated in a weekend game before. No need to go showing our hand by giving away all of our secrets, leave a little to the imagination Darcy.”

“Besides a major component of the clan’s success has been that no one knows exactly just how many members there are or who they are. Can’t do our job if everyone knows us,” Clint adds.

“Okay, I can see that, sound reasoning. So just ten people in addition to the three of us which brings us to a grand total of thirteen.” She beams at both Avery and Clint at the clever way she thinks she’s managed to outthink them and circumvent their restriction. 

Clint looks ready to dive into a heated debate over Darcy’s questionable math skills but Avery just motions for her to continue. Looking like the cat that ate the canary she rifles through the stacks of character bios until she’s pulled out the ones she wanted. Triumphantly, and with a twirling flourish, she hands them over to Avery who shifts the paper already on the counter over to one end then fans out Darcy’s selected sheets in front of them. Barton moves away from his perch to get a better look.

From the Avengers Darcy’s selected Natasha, Steve, and Bucky. From SHIELD she’s settled on FtizSimmons and Skye whereas from the X-Men she’s pulled Logan, Remy, Rogue, and Ororo. Already Avery can see how some of the people chosen just are not going to be a good fit. There’s a couple in particular that she’s going to have to veto and others that she knows no amount of arm twisting is going to convince them to play. She’ll have to handle this delicately though if she wants it go at all smoothly , her best option is to guide Darcy into pulling them off the table herself.

“FtizSimmons and Skye,” she murmurs thoughtfully – best start with the one that already have a greenlight in her mind. “What roles are you expecting them to play?”

“Well Fitz is going to be our blacksmith, obvs, while Jemma is our healer and Skye can act as a herald or messenger – something like that.”

“And the fact that the three of them are already involved in the RPG so it won’t be all that hard to convince them to make the conversion to LARPing,” Aver adds before either she or Clint could elaborate.

That wasn’t hard to figure out either. She had expected the terrific (or is it terrifying) trio to be involved when she first started taking this whole LARPing lark seriously. There were a number of reasons why Avery believed the trio was in this up to their pretty little necks. Firstly they were Darcy’s peers and secondly the four of them together often verged on the edge of becoming a natural disaster inspired by a bunch of twenty-somethings raging hormones. (Avery often thanked her lucky stars that their contact with their fellow peers among the X-Men’s roster was limited. She’d often woke up in a cold sweat at the thought of what matter of things could happen if they all banned together). Thirdly the general understanding and sophistication of both alchemy (Science(!)) and ironwork (engineering) in Moondoor improved by leaps and bounds after the introduction of this clan and it just reeked of FitzSimmons influence. And lastly the various accusations of mischievous hacking across the games forums had Skye’s number plastered all over it; really it was just all too much coincidence for Avery to ignore.

“Good guesses,” Barton praises her begrudgingly. “But it’s not the three amigos you’ll have to convince.”

“You two yokels want me to tussle with Big Papa so you can run off and play with your little friends,” she makes absolutely no effort at all to hide just how entertaining she finds the idea.

“Basically since technically we’re not supposed to know he’s alive,” Darcy admits with an apologetic shrug (her unabashed grin totally negates any sincerity she might have been going for). “Those kind of rules don’t seem to apply to you for some reason.”

“Cuz I’m pretty,” she deadpans and Clint face palms.

“ _Avery **!**_ ”

“Alright, alright, I’ll have a chat with daddy dearest and get him to spring your dates for the prom, even waive the eleven pm curfew.” 

“You’re too kind,” Barton murmurs sardonically. 

“Think nothing of it sweet cheeks,” she informs him reaching over to pat his cheek. He gives her a wiry smile in reply. “Just a hunch here, but I’m guessing you want me to use my womanly wiles on Logan.”

Darcy’s already nodding her head in agreement while Avery’s busy pursing her lips together lost in thought. She could charm Logan into making the trip but a better tactic would be to have Darcy talk the grumpy old man around. He’s got a real soft spot for doe-eyed kids asking for his help, you just have to look at his history with Rogue, Kitty or Jubilee for evidence. 

“It’d be better if you took a run at him Darc. I can get you in to see him and make him hear you out but you’re going to have to deliver the sales pitch.”

“ _Me?_ ” Again her voice raises a few octaves in her incredulity. “What the hell makes you think I’ll have any luck?!?”

“Ask Rogue for pointers, or Kitty for that matter,” she replies with a dismissive shrug, “those girls have him wrapped tightly around their little fingers it won’t take you long to figure out how to do the same Darc you just need to spend some more time with the man.”

“Should you really be giving away trade secrets Avery,” Barton inquires politely one eyebrow raised.

“Not really a secret, trade or otherwise Barton,” she quips lazily almost as if it wasn’t worth her effort to respond. “Now for some bad news, there’s no amount of arm twisting done by me or anyone else that’ll convince Rogue to come out to Michigan. She won’t be comfortable around so many strangers.”

“That’s bull honky! She’s at your cabin all the time and people are always just randomly showing up there,” is the strident objection.

“True, but everyone knows the rules when they visit me. No one in Michigan is going to be playing by those same rules. You won’t get Ro to go for this either, not with both Scott and Jeanie still out of touch,” Avery continues before the girl could voice any further objections. She takes both Ororo’s and Rogue’s profiles and sets them aside.

“Didn’t know One-eye and Red were benched,” it’s a casual remark but Avery can practically taste Barton’s attempt to fish for information.

“Who said anything about there being a bench?” She counters sweetly and really ‘out of touch’ could mean a whole host of things – say off on a couples retreat to rekindle the spark in paradise.

“Gambit’s also a no,” she presses on removing his character bio.

“What, why?”

“Frankly I don’t trust him to keep his hands to himself.”

“But you _like_ Remy.”

“Like does not always translate into trust Darc and I’m not sponsoring your bid for this trip just to spend the time watching that loveable scoundrel try and worm his way into your panties.”

Darcy blushes furiously then pouts while Clint throws his head back and laughs uproariously. 

“Aww man, she’s got your number there kiddo.”

“Shut it birdbrain. Who else are you going to veto on me Ave?”

“I noticed you didn’t include either Tony or Thor in this line up, whys that?” She counters avoiding that question for now.

“Because Tony couldn’t do subtle to save his life, literally, it’s been proven,” Darcy answers straight away, “and as much as I adore my lightening bro neither can Thor. If we’re going to do this then we need to do it without blowing our cover,” she entreats Avery trying to make the woman understand just how important it is for them to attend their firs festival with as minimal fuss as possible. “Problem is Tony’s been playing on line and once he finds out we are planning this little joyride…,” she drifts off spreading her arms in a shrug.

“I see, you need me to talk him into staying behind.”

“B-i-n-g-o,” Clint singsongs emphasizing it with a finger pistol in Avery’s direction.

“And Thor,” Darcy reminds even as Avery’s shaking her head no.

“Don’t need me for Thor, you need Jane.”

“Well, yeah that makes sense but how do I get Janey to stay behind?”

Avery resists the temptation to roll her eyes. Seriously for a bright girl Darcy’s being ridiculously thick. Her eyes do narrow as it occurs to her that the girl is so invested in deliberately playing dumb just to give Avery something to do. It’s a sweet idea and Avery appreciates the gesture but it is completely unnecessary. If Avery wanted busy work just to feel useful she would have gone and found some herself. Instead of calling her on her bullshit, however, Avery decides to continue to play along; she curious to see where this is leading.

“Make her an offer she can’t refuse,” she proposes, “a scientific problem that immediately requires her attention. Play off of that sibling rivalry tension she and Tony have going and you can kill two birds with one stone, so to speak. Thor will feel obligated to stay behind and make sure Jane eats, at least.”

“Have you ever commanded an army before Ave, because you are scary good at this,” the archer’s admiration is palpable. She waves it off and with a shrug Barton continues: “Consensus seems to be no high profile players; any thoughts on Steve and Bucky?”

“Steve’s a little too high profile for my liking,” Avery admits, “he’s no showboater like Tony but everybody and their grandmothers have grown up with images of Captain America dancing about their heads like sugarplums on Christmas eve.

“You too Ave?”

“Come again?”

“I’m just saying,” Darcy elaborates, “you are a lots of peoples grandmother do you have images of Cap dancing about your head?”

“Nightly, doing a can-can that would make angels weep,” she answers dryly. “But that’s just recently – I was living in Poland when Cap made his debut so I wouldn’t call myself an authority on the matter.” 

“Poland, as in Nazi occupied Poland,” Darcy demands her voice becoming a little shrill. Avery nods non-committedly. “What the hell were you doing there?”

“Making do with a prayer and a shoe-string budget of luck,” she replies and it is meant to shut down that particular line of inquiry. 

“Are you saying no to Steve,” Barton ventures attempting to get them back on track.

“It’s a maybe on Steve, honestly a definite no for Bucky.”

“But **I _need_** Bucky,” Darcy outright wines this time, “my plans hinge on having Bucky there!”

“Tough shit, do without.”

Avery’s not going to budge on this one. No amount of pleading or bellyaching on Darcy’s part is going to be able to change her mind. She does not want to be the one to go throwing a wrench into Barnes recovery and she’s worried that something might set him off even though they’ll be playing make believe. Hell, she’s already walking into this eyes wide open knowing full well the wealth of potential triggers she’ll be facing. Avery would be utterly useless to Bucky (and everyone else) if something triggers a memory for him and she’s already fighting down flashbacks of her own. Avery won’t run the risk of bringing Barnes into Moondoor until she’s positive she can keep a lid tightly screwed shut on her own shit.

As it is she’s already taking too many chances giving Logan and herself a green light.

“Why? Give me a reason Avery, other than because I said so.”

“You really want to take a recovering POW brainwashed by HYDRA into a roleplaying world where everyone’s just spoiling for a fight; looking for the slightest excuse to whip out their swords and wave them about? Does that seem like a bright idea to you doll? Sure you can ask him to go and out of obligation he’ll agree but it will set his progress back by months if anything were to go sideways; best to just do us all a favor and not ask him to participate in the first place.”

“She has a point Darc and Bucky will understand, this way you’ll save him from having to tell you no or agreeing to go and hating it.” Clint points out and Avery could kiss him but restrains herself to looking mildly pleased that he agrees with her.

It is easy to get in the habit of thinking of Clint as nothing more than some frat boy out for a good time because the birdbrain _wanted_ to be underestimated and overlooked. Avery’s always been careful not to fall for his act, but that doesn’t mean he still can’t take her by surprise at times. There’s a very good reason Loki chose to make Clint one of his puppets (other than convenience sake) and an even better reason why Clint was able to shake of his brainwashing then live through it with (minimal) scaring. Unlike Erik who promptly lost his damn marbles for a hot minute there. (Chock one up in favor of a combination of street smarts and commonsense over having just academic knowledge).

“Fine,” Darcy concedes ungraciously and Avery can’t blame her for that; the girl had had her heart on bringing Bucky with them, “But I don’t want to be the bad guy here; one of you get to break his precious little heart,” she concludes.

To which Avery give a blasé shrug and jokes: “Never had a problem with playing the heavy before, why stat now. I can give him the pink slip when we discuss that other matter.”

At that Darcy manages to look both guilty and nervous while Clint directs a little wide eyed stare at the tawny haired woman. Again Avery merely shrugs, communicating that it wasn’t a big deal when actually it undeniably _was_.

“You’re actually planning on talking to him?” Clint asks carefully trying to act like he isn’t tempting fate by playing with a live grenade. Make no mistake if Avery’s to be compared to anything at all it is live ammunition (or a predator just waiting to pounce on some unsuspecting prey). Thankfully she’s mostly benign but Clint’s not one to take unnecessary risks; he’s a sniper not a kamikaze pilot.

“Naturally, he did call after all.” She’s glossing over the particulars of the phone call – Darcy _called_ and **Darcy** told her that Bucky wanted to talk – and Clint’s going to let that slide. He’s learned enough about Avery to realize that the more detached and commonplace she seems about something the more _**invested**_ she truly is.

“Avery who else knows you are here right now?”

“Those currently present – which includes FRIDAY.”

“So Tony knows too,” Darcy ventures to which the mutant favors her with a perplexed expression.

“What makes you think Tony knows?”

“Because what his AI knows Tony Knows.”

“You are adorably naïve sometimes luv. Tony does not know because his AI knows what’s good for **her**.”

“Are you honestly claiming that you’ve intimidated an artificial intelligence created by _Tony_ too keep _your_ secrets?!?”

“Why is that so hard for you to believe Lewis? I’m very intimidating and you’re not half the bumbling ditz you pretend to be.”

“Wait,” Clint chimes in whilst Darcy tries to work out if that last comment was either an insult or a compliment (the expression on her face is equal parts flattered and pricelessly miffed – it’s absolutely delicious and he’d always be grateful to Avery for causing it). “If you know about FRIDAY then you know about the rest of the new line up.”

“I have an inkling,” she demurs and it sounds very much like an amused purr. Barton, little shit that he can be, responds to that amused utterance with a wicked grin.


End file.
